The Duty to Defend
by Jadeblueafterglow17
Summary: Summary: Honor does not come without cost.
1. Chapter 1 - Night Watch

Author: Jadeblueafterglow17

A Companion Piece to my AU Wesley Crusher in my "The Final Mission, Alienation of Affection & A Beat in My Heart : Patient X - Alternate World 1"

Title: The Duty to Defend

Summary: I always wondered how they treated Wesley on campus knowing what the 4 squad members had done and knowing Wesley was the "snitch." So here's how I envisioned that his life was like after "The First Duty". It helps if you read the reboot to The Final Mission I & II that I reposted, but is not necessary to understand this universe. :)

Disclaimers: Owned by Paramount, and some other folks...amazing franchise, amazing characters...  
Just borrowing Wesley, Picard, Robin, Beverly...the usual...and Worf! Thank you #Hulu & #Netflix for constant access! Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Night Watch

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Starfleet Academy Grounds 2245 hours Stardate 45826.96

A lone figure sat near the pond in the darkness as the reflection of Earth's Waxing gibbous moon shimmered across the water. Even though little light shown down from it at its irregular angle, the glow of the slowly drifting moon and the lighted grounds cast a grayish white shadow on the cadet. His face was drawn and pale, long dark lashes opened and closed softly and bore stark contrast on his clear skinned face. His twisted emotions got the better of him as he drifted in thought thinking of his tumultous life these past few months.

Hunched over shoulders well identified his current persona. He was a beaten man. He felt like the most hated man on the planet and if he thought killing himself would end his own overwhelming grief for the one who had died when they should have all died, he would have done it. He felt a chill run down his spine at the mere thought of Joshua Albert.

It had been six months since the incident. The attempt to complete the Kolvoort Starburst at graduation nearly cost him his life but did take the life of Joshua. He rubbed his arm as a twinge of pain stirred by the terrifying memory reminded him of the significant burns and fractures there. They'd initially blamed Joshua and said that he'd broken formation, but his conscience and his Captain had gotten the better of him. The truth was revealed, and Joshua's name was cleared, and honored. Their squadron leader Nick Locarno was expelled and the other squad members lost a year of academic credits because he had a duty to the truth rather than to his team mates and friends.

The last six months had been absolute hell for him. There would be no more teams for him, no more lab partners, not even a roommate. The people on campus came to revere him as an enemy. They called him names, broke into his dorm room and trashed it mere minutes before inspection and had succeeded in making him feel like public enemy number 1.

He never told a soul. It was what he deserved. He should have been expelled too. Everyone here loved Nick Locarno, and in the end they had all turned on him because he was allowed to stay and Nick was forced to leave. If he tried to get medical attention at Starfleet medical, the junior officers made sure his name was lost in the shuffle for so long that he eventually gave up on being seen at all. If he tried to get something to eat at the commissary, they would snicker at him so badly at his delivered food that he became fearful of eating it after becoming violently ill one evening after dinner. He even had to take an evening job repairing drive nacelles to pay for the other share of his expenses so as not to alert his mother that no one would be his roommate any longer.

His mother. He hadn't seen her face in six months. He would write to her in data messages but would not send any audio or visual communication. In her last communique she had mentioned that he seemed to be avoiding her and she wanted him to come home in a few short days when their summer break began and the Zapata could ferry him to the Enterprise when they arrive at Starbase 23 in two days.

He chose to just send his usual letter about his studies, and dismiss the rest of her concerns and requests. The disappointment he still felt from her and the captain hurt just as much as the ire from the others on campus. He had become the most hated cadet in the history of Starfleet.  
Telling the truth had cost him his friends, a year of his life, and made him a pariah to everyone that felt Nick Locarno did the honorable thing by resigning.

God, he wish he'd died in that collision rather than Joshua sometimes.

The slim figured young man sat on the bench staring up at the stars. He stared at the planets Venus and Saturn as they hung like red and purple diamonds in the sky near a haloed moon. The constellation of Orion was always a welcome sight with its three bright stars shining in a diagonal line in its belt. He reached in his backpack and pulled out a peanut butter sandwich he'd replicated earlier and began to nibble at it. His stomach began to protest in earnest. He'd lost at least ten pounds in the last few months and nothing seemed to agree with him anymore. Every time he took a bite he imagined that Joshua didn't have that luxury anymore, and suddenly everything he ate tasted like dirt. One last bite he forced down his throat before placing the sandwich back in his bag.

He looked down at the chronometer on his wrist. He'd finished his last exam earlier that day and was looking forward to a few extra hours of sleep before he went to go work a double shift at his job. He'd doubled up this semester and was taking all the credits he'd lost plus two additional classes. He almost had enough to finish paying for the fall rent of his upcoming junior year. He stared down at his hands. His fingers bore cuts and bruises from working hours and days with engine parts and his joints ached from the sheer exhaustion of school and constant work.

With that thought he stretched his arms above his head and prepared to walk back to his dorm when he distinctly heard the sound of whispering and giggling. He sighed. His nice quiet hiding place seemed to have become a hiding place for two young lovers in the distance.

His gift, - no his curse - was plaguing him once again as he believed he could hear the thoughts of someone nearby him.

Counselor Troi had taught him how to hone his new talent but when he was so tired and exhausted, it was all but jumbled noise. His head injury from years back lodging free his unknown telepathy. Unfortunately, it made it even easier for those who were too nice to say cruel things to him, to think them instead, and he heard them anyway.

It was a hellish gift he'd gladly return.

He rose from his seat and gathered his back pack and tool bag headed through the thicket of woods to his dorm.

As he reached the opening to the path he felt his legs give out as he fell to the ground with a yelp. He grabbed the back of his legs and he sensed the presence of other individuals surrounding him. A cacophony of voices assaulted his mind. A kick to his stomach confirmed his fears as a bag was shoved over his head and he was hoisted to his feet panting heavily. His hands were held behind him in a half nelson as the others steadily punched at his face and assaulted his body with punches and hits from some type of solid object. He tried to fall to his knees but was held in place. As his moans and grunts continued. They finally let him go and beat him, as he slumped to the ground, with sticks and began kicking him in his chest and the back and front of his head. Someone stomped on his skull laughing.

"You think you're so smart. You should learn to shut your mouth Snitch!"

They continued their assault kicking him in the ribs and chest, stomping on his legs, and kicking his head until they grew tired. When the boy no longer moved, one of the teens ripped the bag off his face revealing a blood soaked, bruised and battered face of an individual who no longer struggled and no longer groaned.

"Stop! Stop! He's not moving!"

"Oh damn, is he dead?"

"I don't know...let's get out of here." He gave him another kick in the back for good measure and scurried away like rodents into the night.

The mob of teens moved away and scurried back into the woods leaving the disheveled body of Cadet Wesley Crusher lying in the grass just beyond the tree line.

Well, Its been forever. Life has been crazy, but you can't keep a fanfiction lover down for long.  
You know what to do...I love reviews. Got ideas? Shoot them my way, I'd love to add them in!


	2. Chapter 2 - Communication Breakdown

Title: **The Duty to Defend**

Author's Comments: Thank you for the reviews, they are fuel for the writer's soul.

 _EYDF-Thomas - Yes, Boothby will be making an appearance later in the story._ I _hope you finish the story Wesley's Appendix that I helped you re-write, I've been thinking of a few great scenarios for that for some time now. Glad to see that you are still out there!_  
 _Spacekitten2700 - "Dang?" I don't know if that's good or bad, but atleast I got your attention. I'm glad you took the time to write atleast one word rather than read and then click and move on. Thank you :)_  
 _Lindsay - Yes, there are more chapters, but they change based on my mood at the time :( I haven't decided how to work this particular story because it ties into The Final Mission, my soon to be version of First Duty & another story I am working on and there has to be continuity. But trust me, Jean Luc Picard and Beverly Crusher will be well represented._  
 _Lauren - I promise I'm working as fast as my poor addled mind can! Thanks for motivating me with positive reviews._  
 _Guest x2 - I have no idea what "TPTB" (The Powers that be?) stands for but if it screws over Wesley, I'm definetly here to rectify that._

 **Chapter 2 -Communication Breakdown**

Enterprise D

2030hrs

Dr. Crusher sat at her communication station in her stateroom. Her "Wesley alarm" was blaring in her mind. It had been months since she had last seen his face, or even heard his voice and she was becoming frantic. Something was wrong, and she was sure she was losing a connection, that wonderful connection she always had with her son. She refused to give it up no matter how old he got. He'd become so distant lately. Every since the accident that injured him and killed Cadet Albert caused him to repeat his sophmore year, he had not been the same.

She switched on the computer and clicked a few keys staring at the latest communication from her son's academic year. She scratched at her head as she looked at his account balance. Something about the account was not right. While Wesley was taking extra courses, there seemed to be no additional charges on his account. His food account had dropped to less than 1/3 of his usual expense and there was definitely something odd going on with his dormitory expense. The cost of his room was actually less than it had been. She flipped the screen to the next page and glanced at his grades. She beamed with pride when she saw that even with a full class load her son had made an "A" in each class. She was still troubled by the amount left over in his food account. She used to need to fill it with extra each term, after all he was a growing boy. Perhaps he'd been eating out with friends. But that much? It didn't add up. Something was not quite right with her son, he was pulling away. If she couldn't get her son to come home to her, she would have to go and see him.

Dr. Crusher took a deep breath and tapped her comm badge lightly.

"Crusher to Captain Picard."

"Yes Doctor?"

"I need to speak with you; can I join you in your ready room?"

"I'm in Ten Forward, please join me Doctor."

"On my way." she exclaimed signing off the computer and heading out into the corridor. As she rounded the corner and stood at the turbo lift the doors opened to reveal a rather melancholy female ensign. Her reddish brown hair was swept back in a braided pony tail and she was staring down at her feet seemingly unaware that the doors had opened. Beverly cleared her throat as a pair of hazel eyes gazed up at her.

"Oh, Dr. Crusher, sir, I mean ma'am, sir. uhhh...Commander sir..."

"Stop it or you'll hurt yourself Ensign Lefler." she smiled, " I've never seen you this flustered before. Is this your stop?"

"No...actually I was headed to Engineering, I guess I missed my stop."

Beverly Crusher entered the turbo lift "Deck 21, then 10" she exclaimed as she smiled politely at the young girl again.

"Dr. Crusher may I ask you a personal question?"

"Hold turbo lift. Yes, what can I do for you Robin?"

"Have you talked to Wesley lately?" a smile of understanding reached Beverly's lips. Apparently her son was neglecting not only his mother but his girlfriend too. Now she didn't feel so unloved.

"I wouldn't really call it talking sweetheart. He sends me letters to let me know that he's alive, but it s been months since I've heard the sound of his voice or seen him. I take it it s been the same for you?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm starting to think he doesn't like me very much anymore.''

"I don't think its that's at all Robin, but there is definitely something going on. His summer break is starting and I'm going to try to go visit and bring him back to the Enterprise...kicking and screaming if I have to. We'll get him straightened out, okay?"

"I'm really worried about him."

" Hey kiddo, that's my job, I worry enough for the both of us." Robin's soft smile faded.

"I've heard from some friends of mine on Earth, at the academy...and uh." Robin bit at her lip and thought carefully as she chose her next words. Beverly placed a soothing hand on her shoulders.

" You have to understand, he's got a lot on his plate, I'm sure he'll be in contact soon dear." her placating words falling on deaf ears.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sure he's fine."

Robin smiled politely as the turbo lift resumed its course depositing her at deck 21. As the doors closed in front of her an image of a communique engrained in her memory came to the forefront of her thoughts.

 _ **"Lefler your little traitor pal Crusher is in my Federation Ethics Class, he's a grade A creep - I don't know what you see in him."**_  
Robin sighed as she tried to dismiss the haunting image from her mind.

"Lefler !" Laforge barked, snatching her from her memories.

"Sir?! I'm sorry sir."

"I asked you a question." She swallowed a lump in her throat, mustered an innocent smile and shrug of her shoulders.

Commander Laforge rubbed at his temples and sighed. "Teenagers. Do you have that spectrographic analysis done Ensign Lefler?"

"Uh...uhm...no sir, but I'll be done in..."

"You have one hour Ensign!" he threw over his shoulder as Robin dismissed all of her earlier thoughts and scurried off to the lab to work.

Beverly Crusher emerged onto deck ten and headed into the aft lounge of 10-forward.

This time of night most were preparing to head off to bed, but as she gazed toward the large window she saw Captain Picard enjoying a steaming beverage of synthehol brandy as he stared at the rapidly passing stars indicative of their high warp speed. She walked up to his table as he stood briefly until she was seated.

She sat down at the table and released a gust of air she'd been holding, an exasperated sigh that made her lips vibrate and the hair of her bangs lift ever so slightly from her forehead.

"This must be a doozy." he smiled.

"Mmmm hmmmm." she stared at him trying to think about what she was going to say.

"Do I get three guesses?"

"You think you know me so well."

A waiter walked up with a strawberry ether with a mint leaf and placed it in front of her, followed by a chocolate sundae just the way her son always ordered it. She looked at her captain and tried her best not to smile.

"You're not playing fair."

"Our mission to deliver supplies to starbase 157 has been temporarily delayed. We could head to Earth for a brief stop." Beverly's mouth stood ajar.

"How did you...?"

"Ah..." He held up two fingers to pause. "Before you think I've somehow read your mind, I have to tell you, I know this is the summer session at the academy. I thought perhaps you'd like to bring Wesley aboard since it s been so long since he's been home...on the Enterprise."

Beverly's eyes were filled with unshed tears. Picard reached out and put his warm strong hand on hers.

"We've watched him grow up, we all miss him, and he s our son too." He smiled briefly before tapping his comm. badge.

" Picard to Bridge. "

"Go ahead Captain" answered Commander Data. Data was usually on duty during the Gamma shift at least once a week as he required no true sleep.

"Change course. Direction sector 001.150, warp factor 6."

"Earth Station McKinley, Captain?"

"Yes, Data...make it so." Beverly could no longer contain her tears. She mouthed the words thank you as she smiled at him and Picard nodded and dug into her ice cream with a spoon.

 **Location Unknown 2315 Hours**

The wet grass beneath him soaked his torn and ripped clothing. His body grew chilled as a large crimson fissure lead from his left temple to his ear and down pale white skin. His pain, and the loss of his lifeblood threatned his existence and kept his consciousness at bay. The chatter of porcelain bone was rhythmic as his teeth clamped down on each other begging the body to fight for warmth. A single twitch from a strained and injured muscle signaled that the battered human still had signs of life, if only for the time being.

There is soooo much to this story, a life hangs in the balance, there is a major character death. There is a trial, and definetly revenge. Ready to solve a mystery? Where do you think the story is headed. Click the review button and give me your ideas.


	3. Chapter 3 - Another Day in Paradise

Title: The Duty to Defend

Author: Jadeblueafterglow17

 **Author's Shoutouts** :  
SashQueenof thejungle: Picard is "the man" of course he knows how to play Beverly like a violin, Thanks for your feedback. Lauren: If you love WT/BA WesleyTorture/BeveryAngst then I am your writer...Enjoy. More to come.  
Guest: LaForge is not the bad guy, he's got these two distracted teenangers hes had to work with, so he's finding his way of dealing with them. He's one of Wesley's mentors as things will have to come to a head between them.  
Neil Purling: How exciting, what an amaizing thoughtful well written review. Wesleys' esp will only get him so far. He is assumed to have telepathy, but it is something more. It will be expalined in By Herside...before it does in this story, so you have to keep up with both. Happy Reading. Not a lot of recent reviews on that one so I can't solve the puzzle in this one until I finish that one. Thanks for your review.  
Lindsay: I think you will be happy withthe eventual ending. I can't promise you a wedding with this story, perhaps with the sequel I have in mind. I have to be sure not to paint myself in a corner with what I write, that's why it takes so ong for me to publish a chapter. I want to make sure continuity is right.. I am writing the end first and then the middle. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 3 - Another Day in Paradise

0047 hours

A choking cough and a strangled cry of pain pierced the silence of the common area of Starfleet Academy. Cadet Crusher lay still as death on the ground amongst the dew covered leaves and grass. The moon, now overhead shone down on his legs as they lay splayed out in the open grassy area.  
The cough brought fire to his lungs and iniated a tremor through his body that reminded him very quickly that he was very much alive even though at that very moment he wished that his attackers had finished their attempts.

He could hear a loud buzzing and ringing sound in the distance. It was incessant as it intensified making his head throb and ache. He soon realized as he came back to consciousness the sounds he heard were his head throbbing. There was a ringing and aural dissonance that made his head feel like it was about to explode off his shoulders. He could not yet open his eyes, but as he tried to lift his head a massive surge of nausea assailed him. He suddenly tasted the coppery blood at the back of his throat and he brought himself up on trembling arms. The nausea from the movement was too overwhelming as his eyes sprang open as wide as the bruises and swelling would allow and gagged as the contents of his stomach erupted from his throat in a hot angry puddle beneath him. He continued until all he could feel was pure liquid and his abdomen was on fire. He was about to collapse again but struggled not to fall into his own vomit.

Wesley knew he had to get up. Despite the intense pain occupying almost every inch of his body he shakily rose to his knees. His breath coming in quick gasps as his stomach cramped with intense pain he fell back on his butt. He gathered the last of his remaining strength and pulled himself up with the aid of a sturdy redwood.

"Oh God..." he moaned stammering to his feet. He felt like he'd been stuffed into a two x two Jeffries tube with a baseball bat. He grabbed at his wounded chest as it was painful to breathe. Pain like bolts of lightning shot through his left side. After crawling to the moonlit pond to splash the cool water on his bleeding face and hands, he felt conscious enough to rise to his feet. He began the arduous walk towards his dorm. He fell down three times but finally made it to his dormitory, relatively unnoticed. As the hall came into view he tried carefully to wipe his face.

"Cadet Crusher do you require assistance?" the security officer in front of the dorm asked Wesley. He guessed he must looked a sight. Wesley tried to wipe the blood from his face and head before he approached the on duty guard, but rusty crimson streaks still stained his now pale bruised skin.

"No sir." he whispered walking by him and struggling to breathe as he took the turbo lift to his floor.

The sandy haired guard took one last curious glance in his direction, bowed and shook his head and continued his appointed rounds. He had seen this cadet looking less than ship shape a number of times before but didn't want to press the obviously distressed young man for further details if he was not willing to share them.  
Once he placed in his code to the door, he nearly collapsed inside as his own bloody handprint smeared on the exterior wall. Dizzy from gasping for breath he paced along his wall and fell into his bathroom door. Wesley leaned heavily into the standalone sink as the automatic faucet and light fixtures sprang to life. The lights assaulted him as he moaned trying to gather his wits about him. He tried to lift his head but the lightning bolt that assaulted him nearly dropped him to his knees. He felt around in the drawer and found one his older hypo sprays and shakily placed it to his neck and released as he tried to ease the aching in his skull. He closed his eyes as he felt minimal relief. Gingerly he raised his head and caught his reflection in the mirror.

"Great..." he whispered. His eye was cut, there was blood running from his hair on one side and from his ear on the other, and both cheeks were vivid colors of purple and blue.

Thankful he'd not had on his cadet uniform he painstakingly removed his shirt and looked down at his chest. From previous injuries he knew what broken ribs felt like and knew he had a couple as he saw the open wounds and bruises on his chest. It hurt to touch each wound as he looked at his stomach in the mirror. He'd been exercising daily, and was up to 100 sit-ups, the pay off was well defined abs; the penalty was no fat to absorb the torment he'd just went through as he felt every muscle scream out in agony. Removing his pants just below his slender hips, his sides were a dark shade of red and purple and felt like he'd been stabbed. His left side was swollen and ached with every movement. He decided he had not the interest or strength to explore any further.

"Water 48 degrees."

Wesley turned on the sonic shower after painfully stripping off all of his dirty clothes and leaned on the cool wall as the hot spray stung his skin. He hissed and panted as the water struck him but after several minutes his muscles released just enough to help him use his twisted limbs to lather and rinse the grime, blood and dirt from his pale and battered skin.

As he announced the shower to turn off he dreaded toweling off. He grabbed his terry cloth robe and draped it over his body, praying it would be enough to dry him off. He was so sapped for energy he just wanted to lay down and die. He relieved himself in the toilet and groaned with pain when the release caused him stabbing pain in his left side. As the toilet flushed automatically he never noticed that the clear water had turned bright red. He replicated a few bandages and tried his best to wrap his ribs. Wesley grew short of breath and was covered with sweat before he could finish and was only able to complete one layer before he trembled with pain and shock and blacked out falling backwards onto his bed as he lay nearly spread eagle on his bed.

He was more than thankful he would not have to go into work until late in the evening as his lids slammed shut and all vestments of consciousness left him immediately.  
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Note: This story has 12 Chapters. I am currently working on its sequel (which has 3 chapters so far) before I finish this so, that's the delay. I can't post it,because it may change based on how I have written the ending.

Merry Christmas! If I can get some ideas and a few reviews, I will post again before we head off to Disney for Christmas vacation. I am working on a Sleepy Hollow Fic, and Simon & Simon. Thank you to those of you who are awesome sauce that not only review but critique. I really appreciate it. I've been writing for ages, its wonderful to see people touched by my words.


	4. Chapter 4 - All Work & No Play

Title: The Duty to Defend

Disclaimers: Chapter 1 - I own nothing. Well, a whole lot of DVD s and a mortgage but I don't want your characters...I'm just playing with 'em. You can have em back when I m done :)

Author's Note: Here's a nice long Chapter...You're welcome. :)

Chapter 4 - All Work and No Play

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Captain's Log Stardate 45643.24

We have returned to sector .001 for a brief stop at McKinley station for new supplies and to drop off a few crew for new rotations. I have also been notified that Admiral Brand has requested to see me at Starfleet Academy. After our last conversation and turn of events a year ago, I pray the bearer brings favorable news. On a personal note, we are looking forward to having former Ensign Wesley Crusher join us for a brief time as we work on upgrades to the warp drive and the crew gets some well deserved time off on our home world.

Engineering 1430 hours Her mother once said that as a child the lure of a holo-tree at Christmas time would keep her entertained for hours as the lights danced before her eyes like something from the hands of a great sorcerer. When she became a Starfleet cadet and got her real first glimpse at the stars that wrapped around the solar system like a glittering veil, she was awestruck. She knew she would have to find her place nestled among them. The flickering lights of her display console seemed to lull her into a hypnotic chasm. Two red lights, one green, one yellow, four blue, one pause, and a peculiar set of blips before the cycle would repeat itself on the display. Ensign Lefler ran the numbers for her simulation for the third time in the last five minutes. To say she was distracted was an understatement.

A frustrated sigh did not escape the ears of the person now beside her, as she turned cautiously feeling eyes boring into her soul. She swallowed nervously as her hazel eyes traveled upward into a sea of blue but was not met with the ire she expected, but an understanding calm.

"On a break soon?" her voice was almost melodic.

"Oh, hi Dr. Crusher. Uh yes, I mean no, I mean I'm off in thirty minutes, just trying to figure out what's wrong with this stupid destabilizer unit."

"I can't seem to get in touch with Wesley, I'm going down planetside to try and surprise him. Would you . . .

"YES!" she leapt from her chair, a bright red blush coming to her cheeks as Beverly stepped back, surprised by her exuberance.

" . . . like to come I guess, that's redundant. Ok, I'll see you at Transporter room 3 in about an hour kiddo."  
"I'll be there."

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Thornydyke Turbines 1450 hours

Getting here was half the battle. Struggling to pull his battered and bruised body from the bed, putting on clothes over torn and scarred flesh, and navigating the grounds with a ferocious headache and left flank pain that raised more than a few eyebrows as he awkwardly lurched his way through mass transit to get to Thorndyke.

The screeching of metal to metal was his signal that he had made it in to his place of employment on time. It certainly wasn't a quiet place, not like the Enterprise. Here he went home filthy every night, exhausted, and had burned himself more than once with dangerous fuel cells.

Wesley Crusher arrived at his terminal just in time to suit up in his jumpsuit. Before his partner could see him, he gingerly put on a hard hat and goggles and tried to quickly make it to his work location before anyone could notice the striking bruises on his face and neck. It wound up taking most of his energy and concentration to walk without limping and to hold his battered arm close to his body so he could get right to work.

He was lucky. Youth worked in his favor for once. He was easily the youngest employee here with the person closest to him at least 8 years his senior. Most of the guys that worked here didn't know him as "that guy," the guy who ruined Nick Locarno's life, the traitor, or worst of all Dr. Beverly Crusher's son. Here he was just one of the guys who just happened to be good at engineering. He kept a tight lid on his intelligence. He never shared too much information, and worked quickly and efficiently trying not to draw too much attention to himself. Wesley had to keep this job. Since he'd lost his roommate, he had to pay for his entire dorm by himself.

He placed glowing ear plugs in his ears to try and reduce the horrific whine the machine made as he began.

Wesley tried desperately to hold on to the machine throughout the process, but the sound rattled through his aching head and he found his eyes clinching tightly to staunch the pain streaking through his brain. It was his own defenses working against him that prevented him from hearing footsteps behind him. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and startled him as the program was suddenly terminated sending the nacelle spinning out of control. Wesley quickly tried to stop the machine but his reaction time was off and he was unable to stop it. Within seconds, the tricorder was ripped from his hand by the man now beside him and the whine reduced as the spinning suddenly came to a halt. Wesley still tried desperately to hide his face from his co-worker, but it wasn't his face that caught his attention.

"What the hell are you doing Wes?"

"Uhhh. S - Sorry Linus, I..." the power to the machine was shut down and all eyes were now on the two men.

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it. You could have killed yourself. You know you are supposed to work behind a shield when you do that. What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked to the back of Wes's head.

Linus had been working there for the better part of a year. He was a big hulking guy with broad shoulders, sandy blonde hair and an uncharacteristic Scottish accent. He was true terran, from generations of hard working Terran who believed Terrans should keep their feet on the ground and out of the affairs of the aliens in space intent on destroying human way of life. Even though he was not Wes' direct superior he had taught Wes the ropes during his first few weeks on the job, and was the only guy who knew who he really was.

"I just want to get this done Linus, I'm sorry, I know we have a lot to do." Linus spun Wesley around to face him, the lightweight didn't stand a chance as he was spun on his heels and thrown off balance. The ringing in his ears,  
and loss of equilibrium that plagued him was the final straw that sent him out of control. A groan escaped his lips as his world began a desprate tilt and he saw the floor coming towards him at an alarming rate. Before he knew it he was grasping at his abdomen and clinging to the cool corner of his durasteel workstation as he struggled to stay upright.

"You ok kid?"

"Yeah, just something I ate. 'sorry Linus I'll b more careful, I promise. " A less than enthusiastic pat on the shoulder was his only reply.

He took Linus's warning to heart with a visual full body shiver that conveyed not only fear, but pain, and turned back to his work. Turning on the force shield to protect his swollen eyes he began. He hunched over trying to be as oblivious as possible as he held his small welding torch in his left hand, dropping the tri corder from his right.

Wesley leaned over his station and performed the necessary calculations to his device to begin working on his equipment. Taking a quick glance, his co-workers seemed to be in the midst of sharing a lighthearted laugh over a synthetic cup of caf from one of the many automatic dispensaries. He would take no such luxury. He had to power though. He had to get through the next nine hours without raising suspicion, without adding to his pain. Without letting on that he was mere minutes away from falling to pieces right before their eyes.

Two hours into his shift, even as he worked diligently repairing one part after another, he would usually be shedding one article of clothing after the next as his work became more and more tedious. Wesley found this to be unnecessary this day. He clinched his thick jacket tighter, securing his gloves snugly, the fan circulating in the area to keep him and his men cool in the already climate control area brought him to a near shiver. He could hear his own teeth chatter as he felt his eyes fight to stay focused on the blurry piece of engine part before him.

"C'mon Wes...get it together...just a few more hours, and you can get out of here" his mind warned. It would be a warning his body would be unwilling and unable to obey.

He stood warily from his stool and slowly walked to place his completed inventory onto a conveyor when it hit. Like a bolt of lightning. Pain he hadn't felt since the very first seizure that triggered his, illness...his curse, besieged him. He studied, learned as much as he could about telepathy, and how to quiet the voices, but his injury has made that task nearly impossible. He felt easily as bad as that day back on Earth when Dr. Grainger discovered his brain was in meltdown mold. When not only could he hear Counselor Troi, but could feel her.

The headaches were its most common symptom. It had never been discovered in humans, he was in fact the only know human case according to the counselor.

Irescine Syndrome. He could hear his body, hear that it was about to betray him.

More than that he could hear the change in the voices around him. Nothing he did was in secret, because he could always here what people thought of him, said about him, needed of him even before they attempted to deceive him with their selfish lies or treachery.

People had been calling him a freak for years. Perhaps it was time to quit fooling himself. He was a freak of nature.

The whir of an engine snapped him back to reality, and with it an onslaught of agony

He tried to program a tricorder and then test a nacelle but he couldn't concentrate. His teeth were clinched so hard together his face hurt. It had never been this difficult for him to concentrate. Why was this happening to him?

Why him?

Why now?

He tried to move away from the voices... escape, even for a moment.

Air... he just needed some air and he could continue on, the pain would subside.

But that was it, he couldn't, Even though he made it to the end of the warehouse like structure, when he made it to the edge of the facility, near the spacecraft hangar entrance, he tried desperately to gulp in air. But, each time he turned his head he felt nauseous. Finally his center of control is lost as a particularly violent pain struck him in the left side of his abdomen. Wesley pulled himself out to the outside wall and slowly slid down it clenching his ribs, a pain filled grimace on his face. As his eyes slammed shut he prayed that he could rest for just a few minutes and let the pain subside. If he could just hang on he could go home and rest. He knew better than to seek medical attention. He was persona non grata on campus.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 5 months earlier.

Wesley stood at the door to his class. His classmates intentionally bumped him as he shuffled past. Once he reached the exterior door his PADDS were knocked from his grasp. It took every ounce of his willpower not to pop up and punch the bastard who was now laughing at his expense. But he knew from experience, since the accident, even when he was right he was wrong, and if he was caught in another fight he would land himself in the brig for three days. A rather unpleasant experience where there were no witnesses. He bit his lip so hard he nearly drew blood as he grabbed his materials and pulled down his tunic.

Wesley took a deep breath as he turned and began to make his way down the steep flight of durasteel steps when he felt a shove and his feet came flying from beneath him. As he tumbled and rolled down the step he tried his best to protect his head as he heard the laughter above him cease. A sharp pain lanced through his arm, and he felt his face smack a step full contact before he flipped hard landing on his back with a thud sliding to a stop at the base of the twelve stairs. He saw the blurry images of the crowd near him disperse as the class bells rang. He closed his eyes, and scrambled to his knees to get up, collapsing flat to muffled laughter before finally regaining his footing. The dizziness that assailed him was overwhelming. He walked and half stumbled to a nearby comm panel. He pushed a site to site transfer placing his hand on the key pad.

"One to transport, Starfleet medical. he slurred, wiping the blood dripping from his mouth. A shimmer of yellow enveloped him as he arrived in the medical bay waiting room.

Once he checked in to medical he sat down in the office chairs as patients came and went. Wesley's mouth and face continued to throb. As he went to the restroom to relieve himself he was horrified by the face in the mirror. His jaw was out of line and the blood soaked tissue he held was not even beginning to staunch the flow from his head and face. The right side of his face was black and blue and had swelled to twice its normal size. He was sure his jaw was broken. It made a popping noise that hurt his ears each time he moved. He walked to the desk again.

"Pwease...I been here an hour...can someone just fix my jaw...I will splint my own arm..." he said. The young nurse didn't bother to look up from her computer terminal.

"I'm sorry Cadet Crusher, but the doctor is really busy tonight he'll get to you as soon he can. As Wesley peered into the office he saw the doctor with his dinner in his lap his feet on his desk watching a holomystery. Wesley nodded his head, and was about to leave out the door, when the nausea and dizziness overtook him again. He felt flushed and began to sweat profusely. He felt his whole body shaking as he made it cautiously back to the chairs.

He closed his eyes and tried to stop the endless spin the world around him had suddenly begun. One last whisper of help escaped his lips as he felt himself falling before his world went black.

The nurse turned in time to see the cadet's collapse and raced to the back to get the physician.

"Well why didn't you tell me he was this bad?"

"You said you didn't care if he broke his neck...don't bother you."

"Damn it. Get an anti grav bed." he screamed. He tugged at Wesley's tunic cutting it off of him revealing the arm swollen to three times its normal size. His jaw was obviously fractured. Shining a pen light in his eyes, Crusher's pupil were unreactive and stared straight ahead unmoving.

He was deeply concussed. With his gloved hand he reached into his hairline and felt a cut, about 8 inches above his brow and another six inches behind his ear." Two men lifted the feather light muscular frame onto the antigrav bed onto the bed as he was whisked away.

A sharp intake of air sent mild shockwaves of pain through his body, but when he opened his eyes, he felt an explosion.

Pain. Blinding. Intense and Focused.

He felt like he'd been hit in the face by a runaway Targ. He tried to reach up with his hand but found it held in stasis across his chest.

He heard footsteps and then the face of a pretty blonde haired nurse, hit his neck with a hypo spray instantly easing his discomfort.

"Welcome back Cadet. We have reset your jaw, and your broken arm is healing nicely. You had a grade two concussion that is also much better. We were about to notify your next of kin Commander Crusher of your injuries. Would you like for us to contact her now?"

He slowly moved his head back and forth and whispered softly "no."

" You should probably take it easy for a few days and rest as much as possible, your jaw and arm will be tender for a few days yet." the doctor remarked standing in the doorway.

Wesley glanced at him briefly, so angry that this doctor he'd seen watching television had allowed him to suffer for so long. He then turned his attention to the wall, praying his anger didn't bring him to tears.

"As soon as you feel up to it, you are free to go. I'll sign your release papers." The male doctor said. No 'I'm sorry for nearly killing you', 'how are you'...nothing. Just a quick script to cover his own ass.

"Can you at least tell me how long I've been here?"

"Three days." he said as the door swooshed closed behind him.

Suprised eyes followed the retreating doctr out of the door.  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He knew the quality of care of Starfleet medical well. If his mother knew of course, there would be hell to pay.

He saw pieces of the last 24 hours flash before his eyes, and one last surge of pain rocketed through his skull as the agony caused a sharp intake a breath, his eyes quickly closed, and he slumped his head over onto his chin.

The only movement came as the tendrils of hairs on his forehead move gently in the breeze between the two buildings.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ How did Wesley get his gift/curse...oh so much more to this story...and it's actually revealed in my other story "By Her Side"  
Open for suggestions. Reviews and comments welcome


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